And She Wonders
by dark raven0
Summary: It's inevitable, that question Gali'll ask herself in the silence of her mind; and it's inevitable, the conflict with her team over it, but nobody said it'd come so soon and that the consequences would be so dire. AU-ish. Gali-centric.


**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

**Caution:** AU-ishness, some cursing.

* * *

She can feel it on the tip of her tongue, the air on her lips, the breeze through her hair, and she doesn't stop the progression because it's inevitable.

The inevitable what-if.

And she can see it, almost touch it, and she wants it, wants all those futures to fall in line for her, to fall in line and be hers so she can pick and choose, holding each one in its suspended orb of time and space like pretty little glass ornaments to admire that the boys, her boys (and her heart aches at the very thought), give her, because they're pretty, and she's pretty, and doesn't that count for something?

But no matter, because they aren't there for her, aren't hers for the taking, aren't hers to pick and choose from, and its all she can do not to thrust her hand into the pile and run away, so far away, with one of those pretty spheres of what may have been clutched tight in her fist, just so she can be _that_ girl.

The one with the loving husband (who comes home from work some days with a bouquet of her favorite flowers because he knows she loves them, and gives her a kiss on the cheek first thing as he walks through the door), and the pretty house with a quaint kitchen, with an adorable little boy who looks so much like his papa with a smaller sister in tow that her husband will pamper and her older brother will protect fiercely.

And it aches to think about, because if Gali knows anything—and she knows quite a bit—it's that she most certainly is _not_ that girl. She's not that lovely girl that everyone adores and thinks nothing but well of. She doesn't dress in pretty clothes with the perfect accessories to match, and she's not that cutesy, petite, energetic, fun (will the adjectives never end) young woman that's a bundle of sunshine and flowers and fits perfectly in the crook of some man's arm.

She just isn't. And she never was, and she's not, and she will never be.

Gali didn't ask for this, she didn't ask for this hand of cards, this roll of the die, this short end of the stick, this fate that's so very seductive to everyone but her (because looking from the outside into her soap bubble of a life makes everything seem perfect and clear and squeaky clean that it becomes almost unbearable).

She didn't ask to be this girl, this tall, strong, muscular _toa_ of all things, the girl who's too tall to do anything with except sling an arm around in a friendly gesture.

Who's too platonically connected to do anything but ruffle her hair in passing.

Who hangs out with the boys (because there's no one else who'll have her), and fights the bad guys all day long.

Who goes home to a messy flat and makes herself a lonely frozen microwave dinner every evening.

Who's far too strong to even think to flatter and impress because she's not seductive like that.

Whose entire wardrobe consists of state-of-the-art armor and sharp, shiny, _deadly_ weapons that kill.

Whose idea of dressing up consists of changing her blood-soaked bandages for new one and combing her hair back into a decent braid for once, one without fly-away hairs hanging from the fringes.

She knows it's selfish, knows that _this_, this is the life and the destiny Mata-Nui chose for her, what he wanted her to do, what he handpicked himself. But she can't help thinking (and she hates herself for this) that if he's so great, so amazing, so wonderful at seeing every single creature's best and worst potential and future, why didn't he see what Makuta was before it was too late?

If he didn't see that coming, and didn't know any better, how was he better suited at making her a toa instead of a matoran or a rahi or a stone in the ground to stand on?

And she dwells on this thought, because it's easier to think about than that yearning for a different destiny than the one she already has. It's easier to think of it as someone else's fault instead of just some strange obsession and yearning and sin, folly of hers exclusively.

But it's not much that she wants, and Gali tries to balance that in with the massive guilt that assaults her every time she sees it, that she allows herself to fantasize about all the potentials she just doesn't have.

Because the girl everyone else sees as she goes out and fights the bad guys, heals the sick, does her duty; that girl, that _nice_ girl Glali allows herself, wouldn't think like that.

That girl, she's strong and happy where she is, she's tall and invincible and she can stand her own with a gang of boys that she works with everyday, she's knowledgeable and wise, and she respects the turaga and teaches the new generation of water toa to replace her so that one day she can retire and grow old and alone by herself, and it burns deeply in her gut, deep down where no one but her can touch it—even then it's a stretch—and she knows and suffers with the selfish knowledge that she doesn't want what coming for her, she doesn't want to retire and be forgotten.

Gali wants to live and be content with a happy family and a little boy and a little girl and a devoted husband and it can't be too much to ask for, can it?

The whole issue burns deeply in her gut and just plain _hurts_ because Gali doesn't know if she's one of the many water toa who've come before and after her; one of the ones who've had and have and will have the same fears a she does; or if she's just an anomaly, a mistake that's been around too long for her own and who's the only one with such disloyal thoughts in regards to her fate and the lack of desirability that comes with it.

But it's hardly a question for polite company. And Gali doesn't know, she can't know; if she's the only one with this bitter sentiment in mind, the only one with this crushing sadness and silence as her only true companion when she thinks ahead to the coming years.

Because Hahli used to be a matoran not too long ago, one of the ones that fit perfectly in the crook of an arm and was one of the embodiments of girls Gali can only wish she was. And Hahli's been there, done that, and doesn't seem to think much of the fact that she can't have beautiful children anymore with a affectionate husband because now she's one of those _toa_ she herself used to idolize and anything is worth the price, anything at all (and it's when thinking about her that Gali especially wonders if she's being just a tad bit ungrateful and why can't she swallow the bitter pill like a good toa would?).

And Gali most certainly can't ask Nokama about this, because it's akin to talking about sex with one's grandma and who'd she do it with (give me a list) and every time she's hedged around it, or even gotten remotely close to the topic, Nokama's fixed her with a steady gaze and an unflinching voice that makes her flinch and questions; is she's unhappy with her destiny? (Every time she answers no, and every time it sounds like a lie and Nokama can tell because her eyes narrow and she turns away in an act of dismissal).

Then there's no one else to talk to about it with, because where else is there to turn?

Most of the water toa are dead because toa is a slowly dying species of their own that's faltering and breaking with every fight and every war that comes with and after the fall of Mata-Nui.

Her teammates know something is up but that would just be awkward for the very obvious reason that they're the wrong gender and they're loyal toa for Mata-Nui's sake (and she's pretty sure, but not quite sure, that they know the nature of her unhappiness because Nokama no doubt tipped them off).

But even when Onua and Kopaka corner her (it's such an odd pair to be working together on anything, but neither is ever afraid of saying the blunt logical truths that cut deep and need to be said so perhaps it makes sense in some sort of twisted way. But that would also mean all her teammates are talking about her behind her back, because Onua'll never touch something if it doesn't need to be touched and Kopaka won't do anything about a problem unless prodded to or it becomes too irritable to ignore and she knows it's not that her problem is a petulant child to him, because she's well rehearsed at acting the part of loving, nurturing, giving water toa to the extreme and so is there _really_ another answer?).

And they, Onua and Kopaka, they ask her (more like assault her) about what's wrong because she's off (even though they both know it's not the case, because when has she ever been off, and now they most certainly know that there's something she's keeping from them but want to make sure before anything else happens) and she says she's fine and is just having a tough week, day, month, century, year, ect. And not to worry about it because they must just be imagining it.

Gali deals with the knowledge that she's lying to everyone just fine, because the truth hurts too much to share with _anyone_.

And then one day Tahu stops their meeting in mid-argument (it's been planned, she can tell, because Kopaka doesn't object and they all turn in synchronized motion to face her that would have been funny in any other case if it weren't so creepy right then) and he signals her out and asks her what the hell is wrong and why won't she just _tell_ them so they can fix it, because they're her teammates goddammit.

She's silent and she's cornered—with all five of her immediate teammates fencing her in and making escape impossible—and Gali can't force the words out to tell them that there's nothing wrong, nothing at all, because there is, there's something wrong with _her_ and it's no issue for the whole team to deal with because that'll just be awkward on so many levels (because they're all caught up in her fantasy, sewn in like no tomorrow).

So after a too long pause that makes it impossible to deny anything (and now they all know there's something up and nobody can deny it now, because she's paused too long to be natural and it means there's something not right) Gali decides to say silent, because if she doesn't say anything, then there's nothing to postulate on.

But somehow, they defy the logic there, and Kopaka speaks, and he's closer than anyone else has ever gotten and it scares her because if he's on the right track now, how long is it till he's right on spot with the truth so real that she can't deny it? Because when he asks if it's a girl/female thing, and she can't quite say no, because how is she to know if it is, all she can do is quietly and pleadingly stare at him, willing him to say nothing more because it hurts, it puts her in a tough spot between a rock and a hard place.

The rest of her teammates, the more masculine in general it seems, Tahu and Onua and Pohatu in particular, cringe slightly and then it's really awkward, because now they all have to acknowledge that yes, she is a _girl_, a _woman_, a _female_,and the words now sound dirty on the edge of her tongue.

Because the last thing they really want to do is discuss her feminine differences with their masculine pride, and now it's a bit uncomfortable so she chooses her words carefully, picking and choosing each words like the futures she wishes she could, and she ends up with a simple explanation that she just wonders about the future sometimes and it makes her uncomfortable so it's nothing important, and Tahu nods relieved its nothing more _intimate_ (because there's nothing like describing intimate feminine things with five most certainly straight masculine men).

And they return to business, but Kopaka gives her an odd look, so she's knows she's not quite off the hook yet, because _how do girl issues coincide with the future_, and it's all she can do to skirt him and leave as soon as the meeting concludes.

So in the end she peacefully returns to her daydreaming, fingers the possibilities that aren't hers but are just too pretty and nice not to think about. And they give her a warm fuzzy feeling every single time she thinks about them, so she doesn't stop because even if it's a guilty pleasure, it's her own guilty pleasure and no one can see inside her head, so it's safe.

For a time.

And when she finds herself at a get together for her team, the younger team, and Takanuva (the poor boy can never truly belong it seems) she makes a conscious effort to push the thoughts to the back of her mind where she can't touch, see, or hear them; but it just makes the reality that she really didn't want to face so much clearer. If she could just get lost in her passive daydreams then the damage might not have been so severe, but she's made a promise to herself, to her team and to the matoran that she won't think about it, she won't be inattentive, she'll keep her feet flat on the ground at all times when in company.

Guilty pleasures are for alone time when there's nobody around to criticize her, but the fact that there's one acting out right in front of her, one of the things she wishes for but can't have, though twisted and skewed as it is (and it should be her, not that girl, and another boy instead of that boy), doesn't help her resolve and it leaves her bitter and still there to witness the whole sordid affair.

Because she's _lonely_ and she feels vindicated when she allows herself to realize this, but she can't help but watch as Jaller and Hahli flirt awkwardly and blush and have pregnant pauses that she wishes were her own (she doesn't feel Kopaka's eyes on her as she looks sadly and wistfully at the pair) because it's just too cute, and everyone is purposefully ignoring the fact that there's an thick awkward bubble that separates the maybe-would-be-couple from the rest of them.

And she jokes with Tahu, laughs at Lewa's antics, talks amicably with Pohatu, sits peacefully with Onua (and they seem so glad to have her back because she's obviously making an effort and it's working for the most part, but she consciously avoids Kopaka all the same because he seems able to see right through her like no one else can) and she teases the younger group, gives Takanuva a few tips, so it's just like every single other gathering, only she can't stop watching the potential couple out of the corner of her eye, and by the time she realizes Kopaka is watching her watch them, it's too late.

This time he doesn't wait, and he doesn't ask nicely or subtly or give hints and quiet threats to answer him or else; it's gloves off and forceful hardhitting prickly truth that she herself isn't comfortable with and neither is he, but he wants this over with, wants it hashed out and put to rest; he thinks he _knows_ what it is and even though he doesn't have a remedy for it, it's better out in the open, no matter what Gali thinks.

And his execution is meticulously planned and perfectly timed so that he has an audience and another _girltoawoman_ in place to help him judge her and make it impossible for her to deny anything, because Hahli thinks more like Gali than he or any of the other toa does.

They're all by the bonfire now (he's not one to be fond of the element of the gathering, but it isn't his place to criticize, most all are comfortable with the idea and think it's cool that Tahu and Jaller can make the fire do strange things) and he knows instinctively that it's time then, and murmurs to Tahu not to stop him because he won't hurt her, _"she's going to be fine, but this is the only way,"_ and Tahu doesn't quite know what he's talking about but nods all the same (against his better judgment) because he's come to trust the ice toa over time.

So even though he reluctantly agrees not to stop the proceedings, Tahu still doesn't quite know who _she_ is, although he can guess because if it was Hahli he wouldn't be asking Tahu's permission.

The other toa on his team all hear this and it's growing tense and silent and Tahu's asking him to explain in a terse and tense voice even though he's already agreed and Kopaka says to him that it'll make sense, all of it, soon, but then he catches her eye, because the sudden change in atmosphere is too much to not ignore, and he knows and she knows he knows and she cringes back because she's just stopped watching Hahli and Jaller together and it's far too clear too him now and he feels sick in the pit of his stomach because he knows that there's no solution to what she wants and needs and knows that she knows the same.

And it's almost enough to stop him, because it'll just end up hurting her (even though it might also help her, might being the operative word) but Tahu's noted the exchange and asks what the hell is he doing because it's fine, she's fine, just fine, and Kopaka finds himself disagreeing because no she's not.

Then Pohatu tries to quietly intervene, but it's all Kopaka needed and before he can say another word past his first sentence _"why don't we all just get along?"_ He's justified the confrontation because Gali can't quite be fully happy if it's still suffocating and drowning her in her self-induced loneliness for something more than just a platonic relationship with someone, anyone; and he has proof to his argument and isn't making another person happy what friends do?

His evidence is proof in the way that Gali looks wistfully at the pair of maybe-in-a-different-world-lovers that are just lightly flirting at the moment and nothing more, then he's up, it's too late to take it back, and everyone turns to him; because he has that look in his eyes that screams accusation, determination, and then something else that's deeper and darker, so the circle falls silent and Gali knows he's coming. She leans off the wall she's been standing against and quietly excuses herself and tries to get away, but he won't let her because he has an audience and everyone needs to be able to see and make sure she can't lie.

Quietly she pleads with him not to do this, she's working on it, and they're speaking in low tones but somehow Tahu hears them and then he's up and intervening but Kopaka stops with him with an arm gesture to back off and tells him that this is for her own good. So Tahu pauses in mid sentence but stays there, hovering because he's always been protective and Kopaka realizes he's acting unusually antagonistic (even for his icy demeanor) and he can't really find it in him to blame Tahu for the terseness of his mere presence.

Then Gali tries to back away and it's clear to all that's she's about to run and flee; Tahu's watching her carefully with more than a hint of worry in his eyes because if she's running from this—for she's courageous if nothing else—then it must really be bad.

Because he's clear that this has to be done and it's inevitable and it needs a full audience to hear it out, he grabs her arms none too softly, and Tahu's too worried to protest except shift uneasily on his feet and follow; hovering behind them with a hawk-like stare as Kopaka backs her into the rock that she had been leaning against previously.

Takanuva's shifting out of the way then, understanding that he needs to clear out in one of his more insightful moments, and then it's in the here and now because everyone's watching. And in some ways that makes it both better and worse.

"If it makes any difference," and her words are quiet and desperate and it's clear she doesn't want this confrontation any more than he does, "I didn't choose this." Maybe it's the words she's chosen, but Tahu's eyes have widened and he tenses, because it's clear that she's admitting something is wrong and why didn't he see it before? And he thinks it might be treason she's admitting to, but something in the back of his mind rebels, because Gali is _good_, always good, and never bad.

It's a heavy thing to say, and he's sympathetic because he's figured it out, but Kopaka forces himself to wait for an extra second before plunging into the inevitable; because she's not even trying to resist him and he's thankful because it makes his job that much harder if she does. "I know."

And his words hold an extra dimension to them than hers do. Because he's sorry he has to do this; but he's also telling her that he understands, he knows, and it's too late to run and hide so bear with it and face the dilemma like a toa. It's his tone that gives him away though; the half-accusatory, half-tired tone, weighed down with sadness and misery, laced tightly inside a locked room alongside the truth.

Tahu decides at that moment that maybe he should intervene, and he speaks; worry coating his tongue like a thick sugar that leaves a bitter aftertaste. "What's wrong?" And what knowledge that he has of the situation shows itself to him, and realization clears his face and he knows to the best of his ability, he _knows_. "Is it _that_?"

The last word holds a particular ring to it and the rest of the Toa Nuva all stiffen because they have at least a fuzzy sense of what _that_ is even though the Toa Mahri are sitting there like blind ducks with no clue as to what's going on, but it's Takanuva that is the first to speak, Takanuva, not the Toa Mahri even though he has no more knowledge on the subject than any of the other clueless toa with him.

"Do we need to go? Because we can, it's really no—" but he never quite gets to finish his sentence because Kopaka's already seen how this has to go to end in something tangible and he stops him, eyes never leaving Gali's panic stricken set.

"No, I think it would actually be helpful if you all stayed, Hahli in particular." And then the rest of the unknowing eyes, Toa Nuva included, turn to face Hahli, who blushes because she's not quite sure what the matter is. And she's not quite sure what she's done, but everyone's staring at her and she can't quite figure out what she's supposed to have done, how she's caught up in all of it, because Gali's been avoiding her for a few weeks now, and maybe is it because she's mysteriously offended the other water toa?

But she's thinking back and she can't quite touch on the issue because they've always been most cordial to one another and so the only word that comes to her lips is blunt and there and hardly graceful and sounds stupid as soon as she speaks it and almost immediately she wants to take it back because Jaller is here and she doesn't want him to think her stupid or foolish or dumb or anything bad, nothing bad at all.

"Huh?" And the word is too far gone to slide back between her lips again and down her throat and so now she just has to deal with it no matter how awful it may be.

And then her, her being one of the most articulate and postulating of her team, a discerning toa of her time, just has to go and make it worse because the next words out of her mouth are just as bad as the last and where the hell did her censure go? "What did I do?" And the words aren't accusatory, more like defensive, and to her pleasure, she can feel Jaller tense beside her even though she knows and tries to tell herself that it's only because Kopaka's accusing one of his own team and not because he _likes_ her.

"The question is not what you did wrong." Kopaka's voice is smooth and liquid and his eyes never leave Gali's who sighs and closes her eyes and seems to slump into the rock behind her like she's given up on some impossible thing, and Hahli can't shake the strange feeling that Kopaka's talking to both of them at the same time.

"He just thinks it would nice to have a different perspective." And it's the only articulate thing she's said to the group as a whole since Kopaka's accused her, and she can hear how the words sound in her voice; like yes, yes there's something wrong (no denying it now) and it's so wrong that more than one team is needed to fix the problem because it's so very wrong.

"But I don't agree." Because if it has to be done, Gali finds, she'd rather it just stay within her team, rather take the awkward pauses that will come once her truth, her shameful painful truth is out in the open, rather take the silences that will come and hover over them in a concentrated circle than a flush hole; because destiny and duty is not something to be taken lightly and broken like that with one's simple and silly wishes.

"You don't?" And Kopaka finds a bit of relief at the fact that yes, yes Gali will finally face it and deal with it and she won't brush it off like she's been doing and will continue to if something isn't done about it. But in some ways, it also makes the whole ordeal longer, her statement draws it all out, because now what is he supposed to do?

Tahu'll swallow any crap she throws out, and the others, Onua, Lewa, and Pohatu; they'll put their heads in the sand and wait for it to be over, because if he knows anything, it's that all of them, himself included, can do the physical challenges like moving a mountain, the mental ones like going against a phobia for the good of the matoran, but none of them ever claimed to have any grout on the _emotional_, and this puts them at a disadvantage in cases like this.

Kopaka knows and he's honest with himself, he's the only one who'll have anything to do with it; and if it's just his team then it'll be Gali defending, Tahu nodding along like everything makes sense, his own accusations, and the rest of the team with their heads stuck straight in the sand.

And he doesn't want to play the bad guy, because he's not one. He's a toa, and stands for all that's good and pure. But this, it falls somewhere in the gray area, neither here nor there, and he can't tell when it goes from white to grey to black. And he'll play the role and make it sincere, but it's not his place and not in his character to poke and prod at something like this.

"No," and her eyes are still closed, neither squeezed shut or nearly open, but closed in a moment of defenseless vulnerability that makes her seem that much more raw and weak than most have ever seen her (and Kopaka almost finds himself objecting to the presence of the other team at that point, because if she has to let down her walls, it should be just their team, not a show for everyone to see). "No, I don't."

And then she opens her lids and he sees what she's been doing, because now her eyes are icy and steely and she isn't going down without a fight because that's just who Gali is. "I've already told you Kopaka." And the last word is a sneer, because now all her walls are up and even though there's no where to go, she has to try something.

"I've told you to leave it." But Tahu's drawn closer now, because he's seen her eyes, heard her voice, and he knows she's going to try and push them all away because then it just means that they'll leave her all alone.

"Gali," and Tahu's tone is one normally reserved for wounded animals, all cautious and low and soft, "we won't think any less of you for it." And it's this that he says, and this that he hopes and this that he feels makes it impossible for the problem to be treason, because then that would mean that he had to _do_ something to her, had to go against his word to Gali, the toa he trusts and knows that she trusts him, and this is his only way to foolproof the problem because if he's said this, there's no way it can be treason.

But it's her eyes, always her eyes; the telling factor that gives her away, that tip Tahu off that maybe, maybe he _will_ think less of her because she turns to face him, her eyes burning and dying and pained with more than a hint of anguish, it's her words that slap him across the face with their truth, because there's no way now to not think that she's not done something wrong (even though there was no doubt about it before), and it burns and twists the insides of his stomach like flaming knots that sear with molten metal.

"Yes," and then there's a pause, because she's knows this is the end of the easy friendship and space between the two of them, and she wants to mark it so that when all is said and done she can go back and remember the difference. "You will think less of me. But," and then her eyes flick back to hold Kopaka's like they've been for the past few minutes. "I wonder if I'd even have this problem if I had the choice."

"I understand." And then Tahu feels on the outside looking in as Kopaka speaks, because he's obviously missed something.

Because the girl he knows, the toa, she'd never give any of them up for another side, no matter any of the other choices she might make, no matter if she gave up information, weapons, or money. But Kopaka's spoken, and it's obvious then that he _knows_, he's known and that's why he keeps bringing it up, that's why he asked them to corner her at the meeting, that's why they're all here with this uncomfortable silence that seems to draw on even longer with every single passing breath.

"But that's hardly the issue here." Kopaka's words are pure and simple, and Tahu feels the need to do _something_, so he does in the only way he knows how.

"I think we need to cut this little get-together short." Kopaka's eyes are on him even though he never releases Gali, and Tahu can't blame him, because quite truthfully he's surprised Gali hasn't fled yet. But then there're those eyes that glare from the ice toa's face, and Tahu quickly revises his statement. "Team meeting—"

"Hahli stays." And it's that admission that Kopaka gives as he speaks and acquiesces slightly, because now that he knows Tahu isn't going to ignore the need for confrontation any longer, now that it'll be both him and Tahu accusing Gali while the rest of the team sticks their heads in the sand, the knowledge relieves some burden from his shoulders.

"Right," and now Tahu's given complete trust to him in the matter, because there really isn't anything else to do in this case when Kopaka has so much more information than he does. "You don't mind, Hahli?"

He glances over at her where she's stock stiff on the log next to Jaller, and it's actually the pair of them that are frozen he sees, not one but two. And she gives a mute nod, only Jaller's already there to champion her honor—it's obvious he's taking this as an almost personal offense—because he's always been fond of Hahli and really doesn't like it when another toa, even if it is one of the one's he respects, condemns her of something.

"What are you two accusing her of anyway?" And there isn't any possible way she's done something bad, because Hahli's perfect like that, far too perfect to even think about causing a problem, instigating a scene. And now all eyes are on the pair of them, because if Kopaka's singled her out, Tahu's approved of it and that links the pair of them together while the rest of the group is silent and uncomfortable but know they need to be here because it's their job, this problem solving.

"I'm not accusing her of anything." And Kopaka's eyes fall on him, and Jaller is suddenly frozen, because he's never seen that look in the other toa's eyes, that tired and sorry look that says it's a problem but he can't quite fix it so sorry, but there. "Hahli thinks more alike with her than I or Tahu do."

It's a solid reason, and Jaller can't just not accept it, because the issue is obviously serious now, and he feels bad for the other team, because even if they've been together for so long, the Toa Nuva don't remember most of it and so can't even draw on all that time together (that long track record) to figure out the matter without outside help. And so he backs down and gestures the rest of his team to come away with him, giving one last long concerned look to Hahli so she can see he does actually care about her, more than she knows, and probably more than he should.

And it's that look that fills her heart for a moment with a warm bubble, but as she sees the last of her teammates leave the clearing, Hahli quells it, turning back to the toa still here, and it's more than obvious that something is off the mark, but if she can't understand it better than Kopaka, then why do they need her here?

"Gali, this is breaking two of the three virtues." And there are more than a few raised eyebrows around the circle, because Gali breaking one of the three virtues is big news and to double that is practically cataclysmic. But Kopaka's voice is apologetic, his stance stiff, and it's obvious to all how very little he actually wants to do this to her.

"And by confronting me you're going to break the third. _Unity_." Gali whispers, but the lowness of her tone is negated by how easily the sound travels across the group and everyone sees it as it is; one last ditch attempt to make him stop, make him bail on the issue that she doesn't want to talk about.

Kopaka sighs, "I know." And it doesn't go unnoticed by either of them that Tahu crosses his arms—obviously impatient—because he's never done well not knowing the problem (how else is he supposed to fix it?) and this just keeps drawing itself out longer and longer (circling and circling) still with no one knowing what the hell is actually wrong yet. "You wish for what Jaller and Hahli have."

And then it's even more wearisome than ever before to be there.

Because not only does everyone there have to admit that there is indeed something between the two; Hahli blushes embarrassed, winces, and wonders if the only reason they kept her behind was to humiliate her; but it's also that Gali would actually want something like that, that relationship, and it makes everyone not quite able to look each other straight in the eye, instead choosing to look at the sand in the pit, the crackling of the dying fire that Tahu can't bother to keep going, the scuff on one's feet.

"It's not mine to ask for." And then Gali's confirmed it, and while it may have been mighty uncomfortable before, it's unbearable then, because she's admitted it and it her voice isn't snappish and defensive, it's tired and sad and somehow that just makes it all the worse.

"That's still breaking the destiny that Mata-Nui set out for you." Kopaka points out, not unkindly, and then Tahu leans back because it's occurred to him that if Gali wishes for such a thing, who is the one she wishes for it with? And that's just enough to make him see her in a whole new light, one that Jaller might see Hahli in when he sits next to her and stares like a blind man seeing for the first time, and to admit that it doesn't scare him is a lie.

"I didn't and still don't plan on acting on it." And then there's her ultimatum, her one defense, the only thing holding her still and not vehemently denying the fact even though it's quite clearly the truth, because if Gali can do anything at this point, it's deny the obvious, because there's nothing else anyone would like better than for this not to be true and it's just itchy, awkward to be sitting around talking about it like logical toa.

When in reality, quite a few of them would just like to close their ears and hold them shut till it's over and they can go back to ignoring it. And it's been such a long pause now, and no ones saying anything, no one's looking at anyone else, and it's embarrassing and true and it can't be undone now that it's out in the open.

"But that's not all there is, is it Gali?" And Kopaka asks this tentatively, and half reluctantly, because even if it's the truth and needs to be dealt with in one fair blow, that doesn't mean it's necessarily _fun_ to look at. It doesn't mean that it's necessarily _fun_ to deal with.

Because there's no protocol for something like this, they're making it up as they go, and it's no fun because if they make a mistake here; there's no going back to fix it, no blaming it on past occurrences because this is a first, an unprecedented event.

But with Kopaka's sentence, everyone dares a glance at Gali's face, just in time to see her flinch and cringe and then yes, there's another prickly truth that no one wants to face, there's another part to this conflict. "It doesn't matter, Kopaka. It just doesn't." Is her only answer, pure and simple, desperate and almost, but not quite hysterical, because she's open and vulnerable and anyone can come by and take one look at her, through her, and see every little dirty secret she's ever had, laid out open and clear for a full viewing.

"Gali," and his patience is shot, and his nerves are in no better condition because there's nothing quite as tiring as this, and Kopaka can't help but add a bit of bite to his voice. "Just spit it out, it's not like—"

"A family." And the words aren't Gali's, they come abruptly and harshly and Hahli wonders if she's making a run for the record number of times one can spit out thoughtless things in one evening. But the words are there, and Gali's hissed a sharp intake of breath; so Hahli knows she's right, because what else is there to want if you already want a love of your life?

And now everyone is looking at her, because it's obvious she's more in sync with Gali's thoughts than most believed, and now Gali's looking at her too, her eyes full of sadness and what-ifs that can't be answered, and Hahli can't help but feel camaraderie with the woman against the wall who's more like her than either of them ever believed.

She's sad that she's spoken now, because Hahli knows that the last thing she herself would ever want is to have all these things laid out to dry in full view of her teammates who'll never quite look at her the same ever again, she's sad because now Gali'll never be able to quite _fully_ forgive her for airing out her dirty laundry.

So she revises her statement, tries to take it back, but Kopaka's already speaking over her, around her, under her, through her; because he knows what she's about to do, and everyone knows what she's about to do, so she closes her mouth once more and stares at the burning embers.

"A family," and the words don't _sound_ dirty as they might otherwise be, if put and placed in a full sentence, but Kopaka is speaking with a renewed vengeance and it burns the both of them, the two water toa. "That's still—"

"Wrong? Yes, yes I know it is." And it seems impossible for Kopaka to get a full sentence in, because the two water toa keep interrupting him, but Gali thinks its better that way, because the less he says, the less he can accuse. "But it doesn't mean I didn't think about, Kopaka. It doesn't mean that I'm going to _do_ anything about it."

There's truth in that statement, and Kopaka's eyes are still on her, and they burn, but not nearly as much as Tahu's and the others, because while she knows that Kopaka is accusing her, at least he came to the conclusion by himself and can see the reasons and the strings attached to it. But the others, they've had the truth shoved onto them in none to gentle a fashion and she can't help but wonder what they think, how far they'll go to accuse her.

In the back of her mind, she can see those futures running away from her, going somewhere where she can't quite reach without help, and she hears the pitter patter of tiny phantom feet in her ears as they dance in her mind and run across her eyes and she can see them, the little boy, the little girl, hands linked and running away from her, laughing and dancing all the while. It aches and it burns, but Kopaka's watching her carefully, as if he's not quite sure what to do with her now that this is all out in the open.

But then her eyes are moving, unable to hold Kopaka's and the pity he holds inside them any longer.

Somehow her eyes land on Tahu, and she silently pleads forgiveness—sorry and she didn't mean to—but his eyes are blank even though for a second she sees a hunger for something deep and burning before it's gone and then his toa skills kick back in and he's back to Mr. Responsible Toa all over again. And if that's how he's going to look at her from now on, as someone who has to be judged, Gali isn't sure that she wants to see what the others think of her now that they _know_ her more than she's ever known any of them, no matter how long they've been teammates.

But still, her eyes move involuntarily over them, and Lewa makes eye contact first, and he smiles weakly at her, and she sees that maybe it'll be okay, because even if he can't fix it, Lewa knows what it's like to be controlled by something other than what you wish and want for, because isn't that what the bohrok's mask did to him? So how can he blame her for something when he's already made the same fault of his own?

She almost can't meet his eyes, but somehow she forces herself to look at Onua—really look at him—because he's had to have suspected something (he did help corner her, but she's thinking now that may have just have been all Kopaka, all the time; and the knowledge freezes her because it had been such an odd pair to work together anyway) and wouldn't that be good because then he'll have had the extra time to get used to it; but he's not looking at her, he's staring at the back of Kopaka's head with a face that questions if he ever knew the ice toa.

It's Pohatu, the completely unknown variable, one who has had no connection to the problem—not past or present—who can't empathize or sympathize because he's the wrong gender and doesn't have those precedent experiences to relate her with that Gali focuses her attention on next. But he's not looking at her either, and somehow that just makes it worse, because of all the toa he's always been the most friendly—but this is just out of his depth now—and he's biting his lip as he looks at Tahu for some strange reason, and there's a protective edge to his expression, as if wanting to put a stop to something intangible.

And then there's his connection to Kopaka to think about, because if any of the toa have saved each other from near-death experiences, Pohatu and Kopaka take the cake, and to now think poorly of the same toa that has saved him so many times before warrants a great deal of thought and more than a bit of traitorous personality that Gali knows for a fact that Pohatu just doesn't have.

The air's been silent for far too long now, and so when Pohatu speaks Gali gives an internal sigh of relief; because it's something to focus on, something to look at other than her own faults and sins. "So what happens now, brother?" And he doesn't ask Gali because they both know she doesn't know and it is Kopaka who's started the whole thing and so now he has to end it.

But Kopaka's silent and they all know then that he hasn't a clue, no frickin' idea even though he instigated the whole affair; that he dragged them all into this mess without a potential solution to end it in; and it's all the uncertainty that freezes them, so Gali lets her eyes drift to Hahli because even though they've already had their _special_ moment, whatever that means, it's easier to look at her than at any of the other staring eyes that face her.

Hahli's been quiet this whole entire time. But she's not looking at her, she's looking at the other Toa Nuva as if wondering what exactly she's done by giving away secrets that weren't hers so freely, and Gali knows that Hahli's sorry but that it isn't the case, she's imagining a different set of toa in the same exact spots and wondering how it might be different and the same all at once if their positions were reversed.

And then her eyes dart to the flickering flames, and Hahli is off thinking of a different toa than any of the other ones here even though she knows it's wrong, and so Gali can find just a bit of common ground between them, a common bit of character to connect with, because both of them keep tinkering with ideas that aren't theirs to have.

But no one's speaking, and they're all hanging in limbo because Kopaka doesn't have an answer to give and Gali mentally berates him (if you didn't have an answer, why did you start anything?). So she starts to speak, because there's nothing else to do and she's tired of being backed into a wall (both figuratively and literally).

"Nothing happens." And it's as if those words have unfrozen the whole circle, and she shrugs out from under and Kopaka's hands and he doesn't even try to fight her, because he knows she's right. And she turns her eyes to him one last time and this time she silently asks him if he's happy now that he's alienated her from most all of the toa in their team, and is this _really_ what he wanted when he publicly accused her?

But then all eyes are on her and she can't stand it anymore because don't they have anything else better to look at?

So she makes the split second decision and decides to leave, because she doesn't want to be here with all these accusatory stares and the silent but still there audience. And she almost makes it too, makes it to the edge of the circle without much resistance except for an opened and then closed mouth as Pohatu moves to prevent her but pauses, because he doesn't have anything to say to her, not yet anyways; and Onua's put a hand on his shoulder to stop him because this isn't the time for that.

Tahu's there then, and he's grabbed her wrist none to gently, and it's not one of those romantic gestures where the boy grabs the girl's hand and pulls her along as soon as he catches up, it's a forceful thing around the wrist and it aches and his fingers burns just a touch too hot.

But he's grabbed her and he's dragging her along and it's clear to all in attendance that he needs to talk to her, and it's clear to all it's not romantic but a more serious talk that they need to have, because the two of them have always had a deeper understanding than with any of the others, and so to have this sudden shift in motion where they're all in transit at once doesn't do much for the communication involved.

Gali doesn't bother to stop him as he drags her down the path and then off to the side and she thinks she sees the Toa Mahri in the distance but she isn't sure and then it doesn't matter because the two of them are already there, on a spot that overlooks the ocean from a deserted docking area. And he sits her down and neither of them speaks.

So much has changed and Gali only has to wonder to what extent is everything different before he answers her question for her. "So Jaller and Hahli, huh?" And like so many of the other things, this has a double meaning too, and Gali can't help but feel tired by it all, tired that he means to acknowledge the forbidden but-no doubt-about-it budding romance between the two toa and to note that she wishes she had some approximation of the same thing.

Even though it's different, because of two people does not a full family make, not in their eyes at least.

Gali can't find it in her to talk, because she knows the possibility of saying something wrong in far too high to ignore. Because there's nothing left to say, they both know it, and yet neither of them can come to a conclusion as to what comes next, because there's no way they can hang in this limbo forever, and something has to give, and maybe, maybe they'll try for the matoran's sake to be a normal team; but they all know it's near impossible, and why oh why did Kopaka have to open his normally clamped shut mouth to speak truths that were better left unsaid?

But it doesn't change the fact that neither of them know what to do, and in this moment Gali feels a bit of relief, because for now—and there's no telling as to what comes next—but for now, nothing's staring her in the face laced with pain and change and whispers in the dark that she can't respond to; so she merely nods her head at Tahu's statement, and goes back to her dreams and wishes that she knows she wants but can never have.

Those fantasies of hers.

And Gali doesn't expect them to ever go away, not completely at least; and she knows her other teammates will question her sanity, but she never really had a choice in the matter, not by a long shot, so she thinks, fantasizes, dreams about all those destinies, all those locked away possibilities that could never happen if she ended up with so-and-so, or if she ran away with him or him, or if she bore _his _child. She knows this, but goes back anyway, back to a world where she's allowed to love like that.

* * *

This started out as an inner monologue that was _supposed_ to come before five other one-shots on what life was like if Gali was with (fill in the blank here with one of the Toa Nuva). And I was all ready to go and just needed to type it up (because it was in hard copy format) and so I sat down to my computer, and then…it exploded. As in I couldn't stop typing, which is just really weird for me, but still…I should probably stop rambling now and go practice SAT vocabulary.

I'm also looking for a sometimes-beta. If you're interested, PM me please.

Ah, but one last thing. I need to know if anyone would actually be interested in the five other one-shots that I'm thinking of posting. Because GalixTahu, and GalixKopaka are not the only possibilities here! I can so definitely see a GalixPohatu or a GalixLewa, even though in both their cases it would be more like a partnership/hippylove type thing. :D So if anyone actually wants to see it…just notify me so I can do something with the idea.

As usual, reviews and critique are love but not required. Thank you for reading.


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